


Should Count For Something

by Sourastherain



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourastherain/pseuds/Sourastherain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim honestly didn’t think twice about booking himself a ticket to the tropical island for the holidays... until he heard Bones clear his throat before proceeding with his question about Jim’s Christmas plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should Count For Something

Jim honestly didn’t think twice about booking himself a ticket to the tropical island for the holidays, swamped by finals and papers for his irrationally heavy course load. He’d never had the chance to get so far away from home on an actual vacation and he pushed other less thrilling memories away when he tapped his way through the reservation. And then, he promptly filed it away for later, when he aced all his exams and could relax.

Until, he raised the tumbler of bourbon--good bourbon for celebrating their continued survival through hell week--and heard Bones clear his throat before proceeding with his question about Jim’s Christmas plans.

“Going back to Iowa again this year?” Bones asked, like he already knew the answer. 

Well, at least he thought he knew. Jim let him believe the lie last year. Bones had begged and groveled until Jocelyn had let him see Joanna, spend a week in Georgia in his old family home, nodding along to aunts and cousins and gritting his teeth, all for a day with his little girl. Jim had spent the entire week in a pile of blankets, a bottle never out of reach, save for the last night when he furiously erased the evidence that he was missing Bones and then drove his bike around town until he couldn’t feel his fingers.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Jim replied, which was further than letting Bones assume. 

“S’good, kid,” Bones said, a slightly forced smile touching his lips. Jim watched him throw back the rest of his drink out of the corner of blue eyes. 

Bones’ throat bobbed with the action, something that Jim tried to quietly marvel at whenever he got the chance. It didn’t mean he ever deserved more than that though. He bit the inside of his cheek. Bones meant too much to him to have Jim Kirk, tornado of problems, selfish asshole, stupid child, use him up. Jim was lucky he had his friend at all, and he wouldn’t fuck it up by bringing frantic kisses into it. Or feelings. Those were never good when mixed with Jim.

So, Jim lied, not that it should have mattered.

“How about you, Bones, Georgia again?” Jim asked and kicked his friends booted foot with a playful, affectionate tap to pull them both out of it.

“Nah,” Bones sighed. Jim couldn’t resist looking over at him this time, the way his shoulders slumped against the back of the couch more than normal. He raised an eyebrow at Jim though, like he didn’t quite understand the assessing look on his friend’s face. “I’ll see Jo after New Years or something. But I can’t sit through twenty thousand questions again this year.”

“Ah,” Jim said, the bourbon in his stomach feeling much too heavy and hot.

“I’ll take you to the shuttle station,” Bones continued and the subject shifted before Jim could say anything to correct him. “When’s your flight?”

“Couple days,” Jim answered. Jokingly he tacked on, “You don’t have to, Bones, I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

That brought a bark of laughter from the doctor’s lips and he had the bottle of bourbon in his hand again, refilling his glass. He lifted it in Jim’s direction in invitation, but Jim shook his head.

“I know, last one,” Bones said with a lopsided smile. Jim didn’t really begrudge Bones a drink that night, but sometimes he worried, as hypocritical as that certainly felt. “And kid, if you could take care of yourself, I’d be out of a career.”

“You love it,” Jim huffed. 

“That’s what you call it, huh?” Bones retorted but it lacked any real vitriol. In fact, it held a note of something Jim didn’t want it to, a note of fondness that he knew had replaced any rockiness to their start. He didn’t deserve that from Bones. But he had it.

\----

Despite Jim’s protests, Bones followed through on his promise to go with him to meet the shuttle. And despite Jim’s conscience, which sometimes, especially lately, reared its head to scold him, he didn’t mention beaches with white sand and clear water and palm trees.

He most certainly steered clear of the drinks with the little umbrellas in them that he had been looking forward to since the moment the idea came to him.

Bones cocked his head to the side as he studied the time tables, looking for the one to Riverside and shoving his hands into his pockets. His civvies made him look younger and less serious that day, casual and warm the way that Jim always thought Bones deserved to be. When he looked back to Jim, he caught the blonde staring.

“You know, you only have a few minutes to get going, Jim,” Bones nudged, gentler than usual. 

“Hmm,” Jim hummed. He considered it, now or never, tell his best friend, tell him that he wasn’t going to Iowa. He considered, more seriously, forgetting the trip entirely. He’d pried a little more of Bones’ plans, lack thereof, out of him, and Jim had to swallow down the part of him that wanted to give in. His shuttle to the island wasn’t leaving for another two hours. He considered telling Bones what he really wanted for Christmas that had nothing to do with girls in bikinis.

“Well, get on with it,” Bones grumped. He held out his hand to Jim in a friendly gesture, smiling slightly. “Merry Christmas, kid. Have a safe flight.”

“Bones,” Jim found himself saying. But no. He took his friend’s hand and squeezed his wide palm tightly. “Merry Christmas, Bones.”

And maybe he couldn’t say it, but Jim couldn’t leave it. He stepped into Bones’ space and threw his other arm over the doctor’s shoulder in a hug, their clasped hands between their chests. Bones awkwardly fumbled to return the gesture with a few pats to Jim’s back. He couldn’t see Bones’ face, but Jim knew it had to be confused. They didn’t do this, hugs and take cares, because they were always together this last year. 

Jim held on for what was probably too long, because he loved Bones, and he was the worst best friend ever. 

Not to mention a coward, he told himself silently, as he let Bones go, finally. As he picked up his bag again, as he walked to the gate. As he watched from the corner of his eye for Bones to turn and leave. 

Jim slumped as he stepped out of line and let the real passengers pass him by. He needed a drink, or maybe just air. Turning on his heel, he stalked out of the terminal to kill some time before he became the world’s biggest asshole.

\----

Their room didn’t so much sit in darkness as exude it as soon as Jim opened the door. A sigh of relief left his lips at the emptiness, but it escaped too soon. He hadn’t expected Bones to sit up on the couch suddenly, blinking blurry eyes. Jim had thought the dark room meant his best friend had found something to do, somewhere to go that didn’t punch Jim in the gut with guilt.

Bones rubbed at his face for a moment, startled but silent, the air between them tense.

“I didn’t go to Iowa,” Jim said, shifting from foot to foot.

“I know, I saw you leave the airport,” Bones replied. He reached out and toyed with a half-full glass, ran his long, slim index finger across the rim but didn’t lift it to his lips. “So I uh, I checked to see just what your tickets were really for.”

“Bones--”

“Could’ve just said so, kid,” Bones sighed. 

“I didn’t go there either,” Jim said, dropping his duffel bag on the floor and padding over to the couch. The doctor avoided his eyes, trained on the coffee table instead. It occurred to Jim to be mad that Bones checked up on him, then impressed that the doctor had somehow gotten into his personal business. But no, neither of those things was right for the moment, not with how Bones wouldn’t look at him.

“You don’t have to spend Christmas with an old drunk,” Bones murmured. 

“You don’t have to spend it with a jerk who can’t figure out how to tell you…” Jim began, but he wasn’t sure how he wanted to end it, the words dying in his throat. What couldn’t he figure out? He had everything worked out.

Jim knocked Bones’ knees out of the way and dropped to the floor between them. Those hazel eyes were dark and Jim considered ordering the lights on higher than twenty percent, but he didn’t know if he could face this in such clarity. 

“I’m sorry, Bones,” Jim whispered. “I couldn’t leave you here though. That should count for something, right?”

Bones just continued to scowl for a moment before replying, “Counts for you missing your flight that you paid for.”

“Shit, I don’t care,” Jim shook his head and pressed in, took the front of Bones’ shirt in his hands and pulled them both closer than they normally strayed, closer than they normally dared. 

“What are you saying, Jim?” Bones asked, clearly needing to hear it. And Jim found he didn’t blame him, not after the bullshit, the lie about Iowa. Bones held him away with a hand on his wrist and the other splayed in the center of Jim’s chest.

“I wanna spend Christmas right here, Bones,” Jim said and he managed to keep his voice level and strong. 

“Only if you mean it,” Bones retorted, baited.

Jim didn’t answer with words, none of his playful quips coming to mind. He only had to lean a few more inches up to press their lips together and find out that Bones tasted like gingerbread and liquor, like warm days spent cocooned in bed. Their lips moved slowly against each other and Jim completely forgot why he thought going anywhere but home for the holidays was a good idea when Bones felt so much like the place he belonged. 

“Well, get up here?” Bones said, pulling back, still uncertain, still asking. He patted the couch beside him with a tentative hand.

“Oh Bones, but I did say I wanna spend Christmas here,” Jim smirked and hoped the tension would leak out of the doctor’s face. It didn’t completely, but he did get those eyebrows to silently question his sanity. Jim chuckled. “You know, right between your legs.”


End file.
